


Once Upon a December

by TidbitsAndThoughts



Series: Song Fic Stories [4]
Category: A Hat in Time (Video Game)
Genre: Dadtcher, and so this fic works to answer them, the more I read/explore subcon, the more infuriating questions i have
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:20:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26087089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TidbitsAndThoughts/pseuds/TidbitsAndThoughts
Summary: In which Hat Kid is Anastasia. Will the key help her uncover her past? Has she found her Papa at last? Here's the song Once Upon a December from the Broadway version of Anastasia! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FfeFUOjQsVQ
Series: Song Fic Stories [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884079
Comments: 8
Kudos: 59





	Once Upon a December

The key clicked inside the box and the lid popped open. A figure who looked like a princess with a lavender dress and golden crown straightened. Hattie wound the key and music began playing while the princess twirled.

The gentle notes of a familiar lullaby plucked every one of her tiny heart strings. A lump formed in her throat as she sat on her bed. Bringing a hand to her mouth, she half-sang and half-whispered along in a cracking voice.

Shooting star, darting across the sky,

May you never have a reason to cry.

Though shadows linger and nights grow cold

My love is with you, yours to always hold.

Where’ver life takes you, you have my heart

No time or distance can keep us apart.

Young star, know you will always shine

For you hold light that once was mine.

The music box kept playing but Hattie couldn’t sing the final stanza, having completely dissolved into tears.

It was the lullaby her Papa always sang. The lullaby she couldn’t quite remember in her hazy dreams but hearing the music box it all came rushing back. The scent of parchment and ink. Her Papa holding her safe and warm in his arms.

She remembered sitting in his lap as his hand guided her through the motion of winding the music box.

“You did it, little heart,” her Papa had said. She remembered looking up to find a smile as wide and bright as the crescent moon. Soft chestnut bangs tumbling into golden eyes.

Hattie let out a sob as the music box drifted into silence. She was starting to put everything together and she felt overwhelmed. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest as her lungs constricted painfully.

Timothy! She needed to talk to Timothy!

While tears streamed down her cheeks, she mechanically jumped off the bed, clutching her music box and key to her chest as she ran out of her bedroom and into the living room. She darted up the ramp. Sniffling as she called Timothy on the screen, she bit at her quivering lip.

“Hello, sweetheart!” Timothy called, as the screen flashed and his image appeared. His head was tilted away as he scanned a report in his hand. Bookshelves stood behind him, adding to his nerdy aesthetic. “How’s the hunt in Nyakuza Metro going? Did you—oh. Oh, Hattie, what’s wrong?” His blue eyes filled with concern when he finally looked at the screen.

“Th-the key,” she lifted the music box so he could see. “I-I f-found the key!” Her voice cracked and she began full on sobbing, with snot dripping into her mouth and horrid gasps for air between her uncontrollable sobs.

“On Earth?” Timothy leaned forward, looking pained that he couldn’t reach through the screen to comfort her. “Where?”

“S-subcon Forest!” Hattie hiccupped.

“Okay, the place with the ghost who took your soul?” Timothy winced. “Do you think your dad is somewhere down there?”

“Everyone in Subcon is dead!” Hattie cried; her voice high pitched as she tried to speak over her tears. “Timothy, my dad—my dad—” _Died._ She broke down again, hunching over as she clutched the music box to her chest.

And she was pretty sure she knew how he did too, and it made her want to cry even harder.

“There, there,” Timothy soothed helplessly. “It’s going to be okay. From what I remember it’s a haunted forest, right? I know it’s not ideal but maybe you can ask that Snatcher fellow if he knows anything?”

“Th-that’s,” Hattie let out a nervous chuckle as she wiped her nose on her sleeve. “I-I think he might be—”

“Your dad?” Timothy’s eyes widened. “The ghost with the contracts? The self-proclaimed king of Subcon? Who was once the Prince according to the storybook you found in the time rift?”

Hattie nodded, sniffling.

“Does he know anything yet?” Timothy interrogated, bringing his hand to his chin as the gears in his head turned.

“No.” Hattie shook her head. “At least, I don’t think so.”

“Okay. What time is it there?” Timothy tilted his head.

“Um,” Hattie curled inwardly with a sheepish expression. “Almost twenty-three hundred.”

“Right,” Timothy gave her a hard look. “First things first, you need to sleep, young lady. Then you can go visit Snatcher tomorrow and figure this out.”

“Really?” Hattie’s eyes widened, momentarily startling away her tears. “I can visit him?”

“Of course,” Timothy gave her an odd look. “You were going to go anyway, no matter what I said, right?” She nodded and he continued, “I know this has been important to you. I don’t know exactly what happened, but I do know this might work out for the best. And, oh, before you go tomorrow, I want you to call me again. I have something important to share with you.”

Hattie nodded, rubbing at her eyes.

“Will you be okay for the night?” Timothy asked.

“Yeah,” she said meekly, giving a half-hearted shrug.

“If Snatcher is your dad at least he’s legally obligated to be your BFF, right?” Timothy offered, recalling the final report she had sent about Subcon.

Hattie snorted. But her features soon fell.

She was having a little bit of a hard time reconciling the image of her Papa with her image of Snatcher. And, considering how much he loathed his past, what would he think if she told him she was his daughter?

This would not be easy.

“Get some sleep, sweetheart,” Timothy urged. “Things will be brighter in the morning.”

“Okay,” Hattie mumbled, shifting her weight on her feet. “Thank you, Timothy.”

“Love you, Hattie.” He smiled.

“Love you, too,” she returned with a small smile before she reached for the button to end the call. Timothy waved and she waved back before turning off her screen.

The light flickered off and she shuffled back to her room. Suddenly too tired to have a bath or change into pajamas, she crawled into bed and wound the music box again.

She fell asleep while picturing her Papa singing along with the slow cadence of the lullaby he wrote for her.

_A blizzard howled outside and snowflakes danced across the windows._

_Her Papa sat with his back against the nursery wall. A pile of thread and sewing needles were gathered in his crossed legs as he stared with furrowed brows at the plush cow in his hand. Hattie, wanting a closer look, crawled across the carpet._

_“Hey, Princess.” Her Papa’s tired gaze glanced towards her before back at the plush as he painstakingly closed the seam in its belly. “I’m almost done,” he muttered._

_Hattie crawled over to his side, where a pile of his latest creations lay. She grabbed a hooded doll with no face—her Papa lamented his inability to stitch the mouths in a way that wasn’t creepy and to keep the beaded eyes from looking lopsided—and placed it on his knee._

_“Ahaha,” her Papa laughed, though he sounded drained, deflated. “Do you want to play?” He quickly knotted the end of the thread he had used to finish the plush cow and quickly stuck the needle into a pincushion with the rest of his supplies. He used his teeth to severe the extra thread and let it fall into his pile._

_He bounced the cow along his leg, making it look like it was walking, before stopping at the doll and nudging it with its snout. Hattie giggled and lifted the doll, pressing the doll’s hand against the cow, as if to pet it._

_Her Papa snorted, the light returning to his golden eyes framed by bags. Suddenly, the door slammed open and Hattie jumped while her Papa turned, the slouch in his posture increasing._

_“Time to go, my love?” he asked the imposing figure clad in forest green with red accents. Hattie’s Mama’s hair was styled into a French braid with mistletoe tucked into her hair._

_“Are you ready?” Her Mama’s tone was terse._

_“Let me put the kit away.” He handed the cow to Hattie who took the plush and stacked the doll on top of it. He collected his supplies and stood up with cracking joints. As soon as he placed the kit into the top drawer of a nearby dresser, he stretched out his arms._

_“Why haven’t you put on your boutonniere yet?” her Mama demanded, crossing over to him and tugging the wrinkles out of his green dress shirt that matched her dress._

_“I figured the longer I left it in the fridge, the fresher it would be.” He offered a weak smile, reaching for his crimson coat that was embroidered with rich green mistletoe leaves._

_“Fine, just don’t forget it.” She turned on her heels, not sparing a glance towards Hattie as she crawled over. “And you remembered what we talked about?”_

_“About not eating anything with flavor?” Her Papa bent down and scooped Hattie up, causing her to squeal with delight._

_“It’s for your own good,” her Mama instructed coolly. “Bacon is bad for your heart and you must take care of yourself for this family.”_

_“Right, right.” Her Papa bopped Hattie’s nose and she giggled, leaning forward and clasping her tiny hands over his nose._

_“Are you coming?” Her Mama demanded from the other room._

_“Yes,” he returned. He swiftly walked over to the crib and placed Hattie gently onto her blanket. “I wish I could get excited,” he whispered so only she could hear as he grabbed the plush toys. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I used to love going to balls.” He piled the toys around her and she giggled, hugging the toys to her chest. He disappeared from sight before returning, twisting a key in a box._

_The sound of winding gears preluded a gentle song. He placed the music box on a shelf by the crib and Hattie instinctively yawned. She closed her eyes, snuggling up with her plush toys, and let the twinkling music box play the song her Papa always sang for her. The last thing she remembered was his quiet singing and warm fingers that brushed lovingly against her cheeks._

Hattie opened her eyes with a sigh. The music box with the key poking out of it lay by her head. Her top hat had dislodged during the night and when she sat up, it tumbled from her hair.

For the first time for as long as she could remember, her dream of her past had been crystal clear. Queen Vanessa and Prince Luka had been her parents.

Though, she supposed she could have filled in the faces of her parents with who she had expected to see. There was always a chance that her parents had merely lived in the manor. The fact that the storybook pages she found for the Queen never showed their child also seemed to remind her to keep her imagination in check. Then again, she reasoned, if the Time Piece had hit the Queen herself or one of the villagers, maybe Hattie wouldn’t have had a huge role in the story from their perspective.

She wasn’t going to get answers just sitting around.

Pushing to her feet, she quickly prepared herself for another trip to Subcon and almost left before remembering that Timothy wanted her to check in with him.

She ran into the living room and towards her communicator and dialed her guardian, eager to find out what he wanted so she could hurry to Subcon.

“There you are, Hattie,” Timothy smiled brightly, still sitting in the bookstore with books piled around him. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” she replied honestly. She was still nervous about asking Snatcher about their potential shared past, but a night’s worth of sleep had done her good.

“Wonderful!” The static sound of rustling papers came from his end and he produced a paper yellowed with age. “Before you returned to Subcon, I believe it would be best that I finally read this to you.” He held up the letter and she tilted her head. “It’s the letter that I found with you in the spaceship pod,” he explained.

Hattie’s eyes widened and she swiftly sat down, looking up at the monitor with interest. Timothy chuckled at her reaction and he cleared his throat.

“Timothy, I’ve sent you the daughter of a dear friend. Her name is Hattie and she is loved.” Timothy occasionally looked over the paper, hoping to glimpse her reaction but her brows were furrowed in concentration as she committed every word to memory so she might analyze the contents over and over. He continued, “Circumstances have forced me to send the child to a safe place for the time being and I know I can trust you. Her father is in grave danger, but I hope to send him your way soon. He loves her, Timothy. Keep Hattie safe and I’ll do whatever I can to reunite her with her father.”

Timothy put down the letter and watched Hattie. She stared at the carpet, her thoughts going to the page of the storybook where the Prince was locked in chains and consumed by shadow. She shook her head and swallowed the lump in her throat.

“There’s no signature?” Hattie looked up.

“No.” Timothy shook his head. He didn’t offer any further comment. She nodded, accepting his silence on the matter.

It was clear the writer knew Timothy, so Timothy probably had some guesses as to who sent it, but he didn’t want to share for whatever reason.

“Okay.” She jumped to her feet and straightened her hat. “I’m going to talk to Snatcher!”

“Good luck!” Timothy called as she ran back to her bedroom.

After a quick teleport back to a familiar gloomy tree surrounded by a clear pond, Hattie immediately spotted the large, intimidating specter curled up in his chair. She walked as calmly as she could into the hollowed tree, momentarily baffled by the change in his book choice.

He was reading a law book? It looked pretty thick. She wondered if it was an old textbook from when he was alive.

“Snatcher?” Hattie pressed, her heart pounding nervously. She had to put on a brave face though!

“Scram, Kiddo, I’m busy.” He turned a page, not once looking up.

“But I—”

“Ah-ah-ah.” He waggled one of his talons before pointing outside the tree. “We’ve no business at the moment and I’m terribly busy.” She followed his finger, spotting a circle of purple thorns just a yard or so away from where she teleported in. She turned back, a disbelieving smile slowly spreading on her features.

“Guess I’ll just go terrorize one of your minions.” She shrugged casually, taking a step towards the exit.

“That’s what they’re there for,” Snatcher quipped lightly, golden eyes still shining on his book. “Got on, get!”

Hattie laughed before crossing over to the purple thorns. Pausing long enough to wonder if he was going to try to take her soul again, she decided that she could take him if it came to it and stepped into the trap.

The atmosphere around her became stifled as shadows encircled her.

“Ahahahahahaha!” Snatcher laughed manically as he emerged from the shadows and towered over her. “Fooooool! You blew it! Totally screwed yourself. Like seriously, how many times are you going to walk right into my traps, Brat?”

“But what if I walked in willingly?” Hattie tilted her head and crossed her arms. Though she could help but smile at his energy. After all, he had been pretty gloomy the day before.

“Don’t sweat the details, Kiddo. That’s what your lawyer is for. Speaking of—” he snapped his talons and a contract appeared, “—let’s make a deal, shall we?”

“It doesn’t involve any plumbing, does it?” Hattie stuck out her tongue as Snatcher pushed the contract into her hands.

He laughed wickedly as he pulled away, clasping his hands together while she read.

Huh, she realized with surprise. This contract didn’t seem to have a chore for her to complete. Instead, it asked her to go investigate a pillar in the augmented forest and to report back to Snatcher about her findings. There was a picture of the strange ice and glass shards she had found holding the purple time rift a while back. She looked down and found that, instead of her soul for collateral, he wanted her favorite book.

The tiny print at the bottom promised to return the book once she had concluded her report.

“What?” Hattie looked up, bewildered.

“Are you going to sign or not, Kid?” Snatcher summoned a quill with ink dripping from it.

She became acutely aware of the scent of old parchment and ink in the pocket dimension Snatcher used for traps.

“I’m trying to figure out the catch,” she said wryly as she accepted the quill, ignoring the ache in her heart.

“You keep coming around and bugging me.” Snatcher shrugged. “You’ve completed all my Death Wish contracts and after that stunt you pulled going back to the manor, I figured I needed to keep you occupied.”

“Why do you want my favorite book?” Hattie asked, signing at the dotted line. Snatcher eagerly curled around behind her and reached down to add his signature stamp.

“Figured I might find one of your weaknesses.” He enunciated every syllable, rolling his threat on his tongue. “Get to know you and what might scare you.”

He leaned back and the contract and quill disappeared. With a snap of his talons, he summoned a familiar book; the first book in her favorite kid detective series.

“Bit of a light read, Kid.” Snatcher flipped through the whole book as the chilling atmosphere slowly disappeared and they found themselves back surrounded by gnarled trees and a gloomy night.

“Then you should have no problem finishing before I come back,” she retorted, starting down the path.

“The augmented forest is the other way, Kiddo.” Snatcher smirked, pointing past his tree.

“I knew that,” Hattie whirled on her heels.

“Good luck!” He cackled, flying back into his tree. Hattie smiled, getting rather excited at the idea of exploring just for fun; no worries about finding a Time Piece, facing someone after her hide, or a contract holding her soul captive.

And, while she was eager to talk with Snatcher about the music box, she didn’t mind prolonging what could potentially be an uncomfortable conversation.

She ambled through the forest, trying to remember the exact way to the area where she had found the purple time rift. After taking large detours around headless statues and hopping over random gears, she finally came to an iron gate that surrounded a large mass of floating, frosted glass.

Right before it was a strange pillar. One with a top hat and spiral. How had she missed this the last time she was there?

“Whoa,” Hattie breathed, walking forward and placing a hand on the pillar. It looked like it came from a large Time Piece, but who could have—

If she had been born centuries before only to be shot into the future where and when Timothy lived, the person who watched over the giant Time Piece must have been the one who had access to the means required to send her to the future.

She glanced back towards the floating glass and ice. Had Vanessa done something to the hourglass? There were cobblestone arches, too, surrounding the ice. Back home, larger Time Pieces _were_ kept inside to protect them from the elements. She circled the area, looking for more clues about what had happened.

The only other note-worthy thing was the flickering blue flame submerged in the spring. That meant Snatcher needed to use his magic to keep the ice from spreading. So then, had it been Vanessa?

She started to leave but a flash of color caught her eye. Hanging from one of the glass shards was a crimson thread, no longer than a foot. Wondering if it was from one of the banners in the trees nearby, Hattie shrugged and headed back for the hollowed tree.

The fragmented hourglass left her with more questions than ever.

She found Snatcher staring at her book when she returned.

“What do you think?” She asked, jumping up onto his arm rest and looking over his shoulder. “What’s your favorite part? Isn’t it the best?”

“Kid,” Snatcher turned to her, his signature smile wide on his face. “I’ll level with you. I can’t read a darn word.”

Hattie stared at him before dissolving into laughter.

“I forgot it’s not written in English.” Hattie took the book back and hugged it to her chest. Snatcher pressed his hands together, holding her gaze.

“Alright, now tell me what you figured out.”

“The pillar is the same as the Time Pieces, and I think the hourglass must have been shattered by an ice attack from Vanessa.” Hattie tilted her head. Snatcher nodded and she asked, “who used to live there?”

“Old bloke named Tim,” Snatcher answered. “Insufferable old man who knew far too much. Think he came from your home planet?”

Hattie narrowed her eyes, immediately picturing Timothy. She quickly shook her head. Tim was surely a common name. They couldn’t be the same person.

She didn’t want to think about what that meant if her Timothy had been here when the Queen froze over the forest.

“What’s wrong, Kid?” Snatcher asked. He poked her forehead, causing her to blink as she brushed her thoughts aside. “You completed the contract and have your book back. You can leave now.”

“I actually…” Hattie began, tilting her head down but keeping her eyes on his, “have a few questions.”

“Fine,” Snatcher sighed, folding his talons together. “Hurry up and ask them.”

“Did anyone but you and Vanessa live in the manor?” Hattie asked quickly. Snatcher scowled and she added before he could tell her to bug off, “if you don’t tell me I’ll go back to the manor and figure it out for myself.”

“Wha—” Snatcher’s eyes burned momentarily with rage before the light dimmed and he let out a huff, leaning back in his chair. “If this is related to the hourglass, Tim lived in the augmented forest.”

“But what about others?” Hattie bit her lip. “Maids? A chef?”

“There were guest rooms.” Snatcher’s eyes narrowed. “On the third floor—but I don’t think you could have reached it easily last you were there. We were remodeling, back before—Anyway. No one technically lived there but sometimes they would spend the night if it was too late to go back to the village.”

“So,” Hattie’s heartbeat quickened, “the nursery—”

“Don’t,” Snatcher growled. Hattie startled, looking up.

His golden eyes blaze with anger but, most notably, pain.

She pictured her Papa, worn out with bags under his eyes but with a gentle smile on his face.

“What happened to—” She tried to push.

“Drop. It.” Snatcher’s voice reached a new low. His voice was so deep the air around them trembled.

Hattie looked down, a lump forming in her throat. How could she tell him? How did she tell him that she was his daughter? When just bringing up his baby made him hurt?

“Sorry,” she muttered, avoiding his gaze as she retreated off the armchair.

“Kid,” his voice was still low and frustrated. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Not back to the manor,” Hattie promised, leaving the tree. “I got my answers.”

“Then you’re leaving?” Snatcher asked, perking.

“I’ll be around,” Hattie forced a weak smile and playfully stuck out her tongue.

“Joy,” Snatcher muttered, leaning back into his chair and summoning his law book back.

Hattie slouched when he was no longer looking her way and quickly stepped away from his view. She sighed, glancing around and trying to come up with a plan.

How did she tell a century old ghost that his daughter didn’t die and was in fact, standing right before him? What if that made things worse, somehow? What if she had been entirely incorrect despite all she found out?

With rising frustration, she looked up at the large tree, pondering. Something caught her eye and recognition gripped her heart. She shoved her book into her bag before scrambling up the large thorny branch that curled around the tree. At the end of the branch, barely visible behind black thorns, a familiar etching was printed into the tree.

“L + V = H” and the H had a heart around it.

Hattie placed her fingers on the etching, tears pooling in her eyes.

She remembered. She remembered the warm arms of her Papa. She remembered the lullaby he sang to her, every night. She remembered the snow outside the window and coldness of her Mama. She remembered.

And though she ached and yearned for her Papa’s love, to return to the warmth from once upon a time, she wasn’t sure if that was what he wanted.

And that fear gripped her heart and was colder than any silver storm.

**Author's Note:**

> Oddly enough, I think this is the shortest song so far and the longest fic :o but also I added a bunch of background not quite related to the song this time ahaha. But I'll tell ya what, writing mischievous Snatcher is pretty fun! And oh! If you guys want, my tumblr side blog for a hat in time is ahatintimepieces so if you ever want to chat about the characters or anything, feel free to shoot me a message. That's all I got this time but thanks so much for reading and please let me know what you think!


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